hands down, heart wide (closed)

[andnevermore]

Who: Blake + Yang
What: Blake's got wings that aren't emerging correctly, and some intervention is needed
When: mid April
Where: The sick bay
Warnings: Potential gore, medical themes



For months now, Blake's back has been aching.

At first, it hadn't been too bad. Just a mild strain, something that only twinged when she bent a certain way. Last month, it had been a constant pain, something that gnawed at her even when she was laying still. Blake had taken a photo of her back, and hadn't quite believed her eyes. Black and red bruises in two long lines either side of her spine, shiny with strain, raised lines crossed under her skin like something was growing under there. She'd gotten Ruby and Yang to take a look, just to check that she wasn't seeing things.

Ruby had compared her to a chrysalis. It was a nice thought. It had been enough to make Blake think a little more optimistically about the whole thing. She'd told herself that she knows at least one person here with wings, and they looked pretty, and presumably hadn't horribly injured him when they'd grown in.

And then the pain had really set in.

Fire under her skin, like her back is going to burst at any moment. Blake manages to bear it for a day, trying to distract herself with the raiders and the tower and the dry scrub around them, but she can't bear it for long. Her Aura shatters somewhere in the second day, the constant chafing under her skin too much for it too bear. And still, whatever's under there won't emerge naturally. Still, whatever's happening remains... stuck.

In her desperation, Blake knows she only has one option. But she can't reach.

Yang's in the dining car when Blake finds her. Pale, sweat dotted on her forehead, Blake's hands are shaking when she reaches to grasp Yang's hand, needing the contact. Her fever-warm fingers close around cool metal.

"Yang, I need your help. Can we go to the sick bay?"

Comments

[fists_of_funny]

These days, Yang is just hungrier than she used to be. Since her first transformation, which has not escaped her notice. She tried to ignore the hunger, but that proved to be a mistake when her stomach pains became so bad she almost drove off the road. Abstinence was not a solution, clearly. She had more success with just pacing herself when she sat down to eat, which proved easier since her meals are, on the whole, larger than they used to be. When she's not doing repair work, or out with the others or fighting for her life, during the moments of downtime at the Convoy, Yang can usually be found at the dining car. No wonder Blake is able to find her so easily.

She's still digging into a plate of food when she hears Blake approaching (now that she's got a handle on these ears, she's actually starting to learn what people's footsteps sound like. They're not all the same, when you know what to listen for), but as soon as she looks up she can see Blake is not well. As the Faunus takes her hand, Yang is up and steadying her with a hand on her partner's shoulder.

"Yeah, let's go." She says immediately. For Blake to be looking this bad, her aura must have shattered, and not come back, which means whatever is hurting her is ongoing.

"It's your back, isn't it?" She asks as they leave the dining car. Oh yes, Yang had checked when Blake asked her, saw the raised bruises along her back like something was trying to grow out of her. Realizing that Blake was turning into a vampire just as she was becoming a werewolf had put it into perspective. And unlike Yang's wolf ears, Blake's new appendages weren't coming in softly.

[andnevermore]

"Yeah," Blake confirms, hushed, trying not to make a scene as they make their way through the train cars. The last thing she wants is to draw a crowd or for other people to butt in no matter how good their intentions, so she just grips Yang's hand like a lifeline and doesn't say anything more, leading them toward the sick bay.

As far as medical wings go, the sick bay isn't exactly comforting. There's mostly just bandages and extremely basic medicines and antitoxins. But it's clean, and that's what Blake cares about.

Once they shut the door, Blake pitches forward, hunching over one of the cots, fingers fisted in the sheets. Slowly, she manages to shrug her jacket off, letting it fall in a puddle on the floor, Gambol following with a clatter. Even moving her arms is near-agony, but she reaches over her shoulder, hooking fingertips into the hem of her crop top and tugging it up to show Yang the full expanse of her back.

She'd taken a photo earlier to check her progress: it's not pretty. The bruises have spread, laid over two angular lumps that are threatening to break skin at any moment. Long red lines criss cross her skin, the sharp angles of them also raised underneath the skin. Blake waited as long as she could, hoping that they'd emerge naturally, but it's not happening.

"I think you need to-- cut them free," Blake says haltingly, head ducked, staring furiously at the cot. "If I wait any longer my back's going to burst, and that's going to take a long, long time to heal. Incisions would be faster. You can use Gambol."

[fists_of_funny]

As the coat drops to the floor, Yang quickly picks it up, folds it neatly, and sets it aside...away from Blake. She has a feeling she knows where this is going and doesn't want to risk staining it. By the time Yang turns back, Blake has managed to pull up her crop top and expose her back. It's a good thing she can't see Yang wince. That looks...extremely painful.

She takes a deep breath. "Okay." She says finally. It's the right call, she knows, and Blake is obviously in agony. This is a state of affairs that cannot be allowed to continue, or get worse. Those wings have gotta come out. "Give me Gambol Shroud. Do you...want to see if I can find you anything to bite down on?" She asks. She'll try to be as gentle as she can, but there's only so much she can do when she will be literally cutting into Blake's skin.

[andnevermore]

Blake passes Gambol back, holding it out for Yang to take. Her grip is wavering, nerves showing in the trembling of her fingers, but she's resolute.

This has to be done. If these wings burst out of her back, she's looking at grotesquely torn muscles and skin, an injury that can only ever heal badly. Two cuts can heal much more cleanly.

It... doesn't mean she's looking forward to this, though.

"Something to bite down on would probably be best." It comes out clinical, businesslike. Blake would get it herself, but her back feels so tight that she fears any further movement could tear her. "There's rolls of bandages in the drawer over there; those would work."

[fists_of_funny]

As Blake passes Yang her weapon, Yang gently takes the Faunus girl's hand and squeezes it, to reassure her she isn't alone, before taking Gambol Shroud.

"Bandages. Got it." She moves to the drawer, and finds the rolls
She unwinds a decent enough length for Blake to bite down on, and returns, handing it to her.

As Blake puts the bandages between her teeth, Yang takes a deep breath of her own, and places her other hand on her partner's shoulder, being mindful of her pain, to steady herself.

"Okay. If you need me to stop, raise your arm. I'm gonna go on the count of three. One..."

She places Gambol Shroud's tip gently against the first of the bumps on Blake's back, letting it rest against her skin for the moment.

"Two..."

Yang's grip on Gambol Shroud's hilt tightens and she has to force herself to relax it a little. She needs to be in control for this.

"...Three."

The blade cuts into Blake's flesh.

[andnevermore]

Blake stuffs the roll of bandages between her teeth, giving herself enough room to breath. She can't help the way her breath picks up, anticipating that first bite of pain. Yang's countdown is appreciated, but Blake just wants this over with.

She barely notices the first touch of metal. The pain of the cut is bright and clean, almost a welcome relief from the sickly, straining pain in her back, a new distraction. But Blake only gets to experience it for a moment before an entirely new sensation takes over: something pushes from beneath her skin, flexing, unfolding.

Gore splashes backward against Yang and the med bay wall, followed by scraping and pushing and new bone and muscle straining outward from the cut. It emerges, and emerges, torrenting outward like a scarf from a magician's sleeve. Blake's scream is muffled under the bandage, and the sound of bone and skin adjusting. Until finally, it stops.

Out of the corner of her bleary vision, Blake can see something stretching out beside her, a pointed bat wing slicked with blood. Trembling, like a newborn deer on its spindly legs. The sensation of relief in her back is indescribable, even if it hurts. So she turns her head to catch Yang's eye, and nods, sharp. Time for the other side.

[fists_of_funny]

Yang begins to cut, trying to make it as clean and fast as possible, not wanting to subject Blake to this for a second longer than necessary. As her skin parts in the blade's wake though, Yang sees something dark shifting underneath, and sees it starting to...move.

Right before there's an explosion of blood right in her face. Yang has to step back, with a surprised cry of her own, trying to wipe it from her eyes; meanwhile, her ears, her wolf ears, pick up every detail of the sounds of Blake's muffled scream, and of moving bones and muscles.

She manages to wipe the blood away from her eyes enough to clear her vision, and sees...well, yep. That's a bat wing coming out of her friend's back. Yang meets Blake's gaze, sees the nod, and steps back up with the knife.

This time there's no count; Yang puts the blade to her back and starts to cut. Once this is over she's going to need the mother of all showers, and a new change of clothes. Hopefully she can make it to the car where the showers are located without running into too many people, since she's dripping with blood...and about to get another face full of it too, she knows.

At least this time Yang knows to lower her head a bit so the worst of it won't get directly in her face.

[andnevermore]

The second time, Blake manages to not scream. She thinks. She's not entirely certain, actually. The world seems to slide sideways, blurring, lost in the sensation of a second wing violently pouring out of her back.

But then it's over. There's a silence that hangs in the air, interrupted only by the drip of blood upon the floor and the scrape of something against the walls. Blake slumps to her knees, forehead pressed against the side of the cot. She becomes aware of the sensation of air and wetness on two whole new limbs, the weakness in them as they tremble like newborns, the way one is brushing against the far wall, the other crumpled awkwardly against a cabinet.

This is so weird.

She's going to need to feed. It'll help bring her Aura back, and kickstart the healing. Gambol is sharp, and she knows Yang would have made clean cuts. It won't take her long to heal if she stays healthy.

She catches sight of the spatter of blood out of the corner of her eye, and her stomach rolls over. There's a lot of it.

"Thank you," she manages to grit out. Despite the pain of the cuts, her back feels worlds better. "Please tell me I didn't make as much of a mess as I think I did."